


Unfamiliar Customs

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 02:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17972429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: “Is that,” Rincewind said weakly, finding that for once, his long-held instinct to run away was failing him, “some custom from Bes Pelargic I’m not familiar with?”





	Unfamiliar Customs

“You were very dashing, I thought,” Twoflower said conversationally, and Rincewind heaved in an indignant gasp through an aching chest. It was not aching, as one might surmise at a glance, because he had been running – he _had_ been running, but he was quite used to that. No, his _chest_ hurt because he’d thrown himself forward and drag Twoflower out of the way of the damned horse, like an _idiot_ , and while Twoflower had landed comfortably on the flour sacks on the other side of the road, Rincewind had landed hard on his chest in the hard grit and stone outside of the blacksmith, and it was very sore. Being around Twoflower was often like this. The little bastard had an _infuriating_ capacity for luck, and in the few places where luck wasn’t enough, Rincewind always felt compelled to pull him out of the way of whatever gigantic, terrifying monster (or person) he wasn’t paying proper attention to.

Take an hour ago!

He’d been standing in the middle of the _road_ , ignoring the spooked horse in front of the cart, not hearing it neigh or whinny or let out loud noises, not paying attention to _anything_ except the bloody sunrise.

The sunrise! How special can it be!? It rises every day!

“Oh, _shut up,”_ Rincewind said, letting out a pained groan as he rubbed at his chest, and Twoflower looked up at him with an almost-but-not-quite guilty expression on his face, his lips shifted into a small smile, although his eyes were wide behind his spectacles.

For a second, an uncertain expression passed across his face, a sort of guilty expression, but then he leaned forward, up on the tips of his toes, and Rincewind let out a noise of soft pain as his fingers brushed against Rincewind’s chest. It wasn’t a rough touch – it was featherlight and gentle, even when he tugged at the front of his robe, and pulled him down.

Twoflower’s lips were warm against his own, softer than Rincewind would have expected[1], and he leaned right up against him, their chests together[2], his plump fingers gripping loosely at Rincewind’s shoulder and pulling him down, pulling him closer. Rincewind had never kissed anybody before, had certainly never been kissed by a man, let alone an odd little man like Twoflower. Twoflower, with his warm lips and wet tongue and _earnestness_ , so earnest—

And then he pulled away, and Twoflower looked at his face, studied it.

“Is that,” Rincewind said weakly, finding that for once, his long-held instinct to run away was failing him, “some custom from Bes Pelargic I’m not familiar with?”

For a second, Twoflower’s face was completely frozen, his eyes wide, his mouth open as he looked at Rincewind’s face. He looked, for the first time since Rincewind had known him – the better part of four months now – completely uncertain.

And then he beamed, the smile beatific on his chubby features, rounding out his cheeks, curving his lips, making his eyes shine behind those stupid glass rims. “Er, yes,” Twoflower said, his expression completely innocent. “Is that alright?”

“Oh, yes,” Rincewind said, his mouth rather taking advantage of his mind’s current distraction, because all his mind could think was _oh, his lips, his mouth, it’s warm, it’s good, it makes my heart (I have a heart, huh? That’s new!) feel bigger, makes it feel like there’s an inflating balloon of warm air in my chest, do it again, do it again, I want…_ “Yeah. Fine. That’s fine. Don’t, um. Don’t do that to anybody else.”

“Alright,” Twoflower said affably.

“And warn me, next time.”

“Okay!”

“And what is it, er, what is it _for_ , exactly?” _When are you going to do it again? Are you going to do it again? Do it again!_

“Oh, _Rincewind_ ,” Twoflower said, apparently not hearing him, and looking directly over his shoulder. “Just _look_ at the way the light is catching that spire!”

And then he was running off, and that was the end of it.

Rincewind stared after him, even as he reached up and touched the tips of his fingers to his lower lip. It felt oddly sensitive, thick with blood flow, and it tingled under his touch, but Twoflower wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going, and Rincewind could already see the two large men stumbling drunkenly after him, talking lowly to one another.

Rincewind, unthinking, ran after him.

 

[1] This was not to say that he expected anything, or would have expected anything, or _wanted_ to expect anything.

[2] Although Rincewind had to lean down _quite_ far.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). Requests always open.


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